


Tidal Waves Over Us

by nouveaux_jours



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam's hands, Dead Gansey, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i have a complex about making Adam Parrish cry, this is honestly just sad and self-indulgent and i hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouveaux_jours/pseuds/nouveaux_jours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of them have stopped meeting their eyes now. Those that do watch them in a pleading way, as if to say, <em>You knew him best. Please, give us something. Anything of him.</em></p><p>Adam and Ronan don't have anything to give. They exist in a bubble of the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidal Waves Over Us

**Author's Note:**

> [This sad headcanon](http://f0x-meets-w0lf.tumblr.com/post/141233730014/13-once-adam-discovers-ronans-thing-for-his) just wouldn't quit, and spawned this fic.
> 
> [oh look, the title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGWtF1AttTw)
> 
> (listen to that shit it's the adam-est song)

Adam and Ronan walk to class holding hands. They don't speak. Their tendency to argue is amplified by pain. Ronan's mouth is full of bile and everything that comes out is bitter and wretched. Adam's feels as dry as ash and hurts to open, so he's decided to stop. These days, instead of calling Ronan out for an asshole, Adam hugs him as tight as he can. When Ronan opens his mouth, Adam covers it with his hand.

When they reach the classroom, Adam pulls Ronan's jacket off his shoulders before they sit down. It's too many layers between them.

Getting through the school day is, perhaps surprisingly, one of the hardest things they do without him. Maybe it's because it plods on exactly the same as before, as if nothing has changed. Or because everything is different. Everyone at Aglionby loved Gansey. Teachers mention interesting facts and look around expectantly, only to realize that that Gansey isn't there to comment on them. Adam and Ronan used to have some kind of report with most of their classmates, mostly because students were always running to Gansey for advice and favors. Most of them have stopped meeting their eyes now. Those that do watch them in a pleading way, as if to say, _You knew him best. Please, give us something. Anything of him._

Adam and Ronan don't have anything to give. They exist in a bubble of the two of them.

Ronan's been crying this morning, and his jacket pockets are full of tissues. When he sees them Adam's heart constricts, and he hands the jacket back to Ronan, who drapes it over his lap. He scoots down in his chair and lets his head fall back and Adam catches it with both hands. Ronan closes his eyes and Adam brushes away the little droplets that line his eyelashes. When class starts, Ronan sits up and Adam hunches forward, resting his left hand against Ronan's ribs while he takes notes with his right.

Tears are embarrassing, but everyone expects them of Ronan right now. They know not to look his way if he cries unless they want two black eyes. It's not so easy for Adam. Everyone expects tears from him, too, with the exception of Adam. He expects himself to be a desert, dry to the very bottom, in willful opposition to the verdant forest that inhabits him. He hates to cry, and more than anything he hates for anyone to see him cry.

So of course, when it finally happens, it's in class.

Afterward, he won't remember what triggered it, only the subsuming panic of not being able to stop. The moment of the first wet splotch smearing his careful handwriting. Shocked at himself, he lets his pencil roll to the floor and lowers his face to the desk, reaching forward to wrap both arms around Ronan's chest. It's dark in the cave between his upper arms. He grits his teeth against the sound of his shaky breathing, but his shoulders are shaking too, no matter how hard he grips Ronan's sweater. Ronan feels every sob. He crosses his arms over Adam's, hoping that no one else can see them.

There's a puddle growing under Adam's nose, soaking into his notes, and his desperation only makes the tears come faster. Ronan rubs his arms with gentle fingertips.

The teacher notices. "Mr. Parrish?" he says, concern in his voice, and Ronan immediately snaps, "Leave him alone." There's a tense pause while the teacher looks at Ronan like he's not sure he should trust him, which makes him burn. Insults fly up in his mouth, but he needs to resolve this with a minimum of spectacle for Adam's sake. The class is already staring at them and if Adam is aware enough to care, Ronan knows he's mortified. He tries to think of what Gansey would say. He's been doing that a lot lately, with mixed results. He never had the opportunity to watch Gansey react his best friend's death in the winter of his senior year. All he knows for sure is that Gansey would be handling it better than he is.

Coming up with nothing, he clenches his teeth, meets the teacher's eyes and just shakes his head, praying to God for understanding. Maybe it's his pleading look or maybe it's divine intervention, but the teacher blinks and launches back into lecture with a sharp, "Eyes front, gentlemen."

When the bell rings, Adam starts to move, but Ronan holds on to him. "Wait," he hisses. When the last of the students have drifted out of the room, Ronan looks at the teacher. "Can you go out for a minute?" he says. "Please." The teacher, awkwardly formal, says, "I'll give you some privacy," which Ronan hopes means he'll prevent any students from his next period stumbling in.

Ronan releases Adam's arms and he sits up just enough to wipe his face on his sweater sleeves. "Thanks," he says earnestly. "Thank you." Ronan turns around in his seat and dumps a handful of tissues on Adam's desk. He takes Adam's face in both hands and rubs his thumbs gently across red cheeks, and Adam lowers his eyes at pulls back at the tenderness of it. He usually takes this role and if he lets Ronan do it for him, he might have to face how much he really loves him. And then he might start crying again.

He starts mopping up the puddle on his desk, but there's not much he can do about his papers. "Oh god. Did you get notes?" he says, and Ronan scoffs.

"Notes? I was busy coddling your ass."

"You-- oh, shut up," Adam says, and when Ronan predictably opens his mouth again, Adam covers it with his hand.

Ronan presses it to his mouth and kisses passionately.

When they stand up, Ronan passes Adam his jacket. They don't share the next class. He doesn’t have to say, _you need it more than I do._ It's a little big on Adam, smells like Ronan and feels heavy like his arms around him. Adam puts his hands in the pockets, curls fingers in the wads of tissues.

"Do I look wrecked?" he says, because his eyelids feel swollen.

Everything between his mouth and brow is red and splotchy.

"You look badass," Ronan says. It's not what Gansey would say, but Adam mirrors Ronan's lame little smirk, and it's okay.


End file.
